


Birthday Blues

by AndreyaHalms



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreyaHalms/pseuds/AndreyaHalms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Denmark's birthday, Norway discovers new things about Denmark, Sweden and finally himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Blues

5th June.

It was Denmark's birthday.

From his seat in the corner, Norway sighed and tried to concentrate on the book on magic England had gifted Denmark a few years previously. British magic was nice, to say the least. It would be interesting to see what would happen if he tried to mix it with his Norwegian one.

It was Denmark's birthday. And, as usual, he had thrown the noisiest and most extravagant come-and-do-as-you-please drinking party ever. America had draped one of the tablecloths around himself and was screaming about being the world's best superhero, a strangely enthusiastic Canada had declared himself the bespectacled blonde's sidekick, India and Prussia were dancing away to some annoying catchy Bollywood song, Russia and Germany were sitting under the table and sobbing loudly, Latvia, Ukraine, France and England had disappeared into a cupboard which was rocking violently side to side, China and Belarus were…

'Hey.' Iceland touched his shoulder. 'Mind if I join?'

Norway shifted to give his brother some space to sit. There was something bothering him.

Sweden, to be precise.

He saw Sweden walk over to Denmark, who was busy grinning like a crocodile confronted with a nice juicy limping deer and explaining something with a lot of over-exaggerated hand movements to a fidgeting Liechtenstein, and whisper something into his ear. Denmark's grin faded and he raised an eyebrow; Sweden turned and walked out of the room.

'Are the fighting again?' Norway asked Iceland.

'Hm?'

'Denmark and Sweden. Sweden's the only one of us who did not bother bringing any gifts for him.'

Iceland gave Norway a strange look, which almost bordered on…

_Pity?_

'Not that I'm aware of.' He said slowly.

From the corner of his eyes Norway saw Denmark excuse himself and exit the room. His eyes rested briefly on Switzerland's sister. If she had looked uncomfortable before, she was positively blushing now. Who knew what rubbish that idiot had been pouring into the poor girl's head?

'They are definitely fighting.'

'I…wouldn't stress on it.'

'Sweden's been acting unusual for the past couple of days. You know how it gets when they go at it.'

'Relax, Nore. You're getting paranoid.'

Paranoid? Definitely not. Annoyed was the correct word.

Norway narrowed his eyes. 'You are hiding something from me, Iceland.'

'This isn't the time, Norway. Enjoy yourself a bit. I assure you-'

The Norwegian clucked loudly in impatience and stood up, setting aside his heavy book.

'That's it. I'm going to stop those two from getting into trouble. If not Denmark, then at least Sweden should be mature enough to be… _mature_ , and not fight. Especially today. Come with me if you want to, but do not try to stop me.'

Iceland simply stared at him without a word, something akin to sympathy surfacing in his dark lavender eyes.

* * *

Norway stepped out of Denmark's house and paused. The front door had been open, but then it always was. Anyway, his well-developed intuition was telling him that the Dane and the Swede were not in the house, but somewhere near the garden shed.

He had paused because of the strong wind. Denmark's home was always windy, but he could tell his mood from the way it blew – a talent he assumed had developed due to centuries of being followed and annoyed by the said country.

Meteorologically speaking, Denmark now was – Norway did a double take – Denmark now was apprehensive? He looked up; clouds had gathered overhead, hiding the stars.

_Oh shit._

Things had to be bad. That explained Iceland's behaviour.

Norway made his way towards the garden shed, simultaneously cursing Denmark and shortlisting spells that could come in handy. That stupid,  _stupid_ guy. He just hoped that the idiot had not whipped out his axe, or else things were going to get bloody messy. No pun intended.

Lightning flashed across the sky and it began to rain.

He gasped involuntarily as the first drops hit him and picked up his pace. He could feel remorse, regret, sorrow, pain and a thousand other emotions that Denmark could never ever have the mental capacity to dish out.

The rain grew heavier, and he came to a frightening conclusion.

Denmark was crying.

Norway rounded up the corner and skidded to a halt. He had found Sweden and Denmark.

And no, they were not fighting.

But yes, Denmark  _was_  crying.

He wasn't bawling, though. Nor was he giving those big fat crocodile-tears he did in moments of over-melodramatic hurt.

No.

Standing in such a way that his back was turned to Norway, he had his face buried in Sweden's chest, shaking uncontrollably. And Sweden, in a gesture of unexpected out-of-character-ness, had his arms around him.

Norway couldn't hear what Denmark was saying, or if indeed he was saying anything, but he could feel it - the earth, the wind, the rain, the whole of the 400 odd islands and peninsula that made up Denmark, apologising.

Apologising for being such a jerk. Apologising for being such a power hungry moron. Apologising for not giving the other Nordics enough space.

One part of Norway wanted to open his mouth and demand what was going on, because honestly, even though he frequently claimed otherwise, Denmark was close to him in more ways than one, and comfort the crying birthday…boy. The other, more curious, part of him wanted to wait and watch and find out what happened next.

Then, over the rush of the falling rain, Sweden's deep calm voice broke out.

' 'M sorry too, 'kay? For leavin' you an' going. Sorry that the others left you because of me. But you see, I was – ' his voice broke, ' – I had to do it. For my people. I resented the way you were bette' than me, how you…'

In spite of himself, Norway smiled.

'…lookin' back, I know I shouldn't h've forced Fin to come with me. 'M sorry for that too. But…'

Sweden was so cute. He must have known that his apology meant the world to Denmark, and hence was the best, most perfect, birthday present he could come up with. Norway wholeheartedly supported his decision.

However, that did explain Iceland's behaviour.

_The pity in his eyes…_

_Pity._

_For me._

_Why?_

'I love you, okay, Denmark?' Fully formed words, without the usual splicing. 'Don't make me say that again.'

Sweden relapsed into silence after that.

Or maybe it was simply Norway who couldn't register if anybody was saying anything.

A kiss that seemed to last forever.

The rain continued to fall, its sound now feeling like static in Norway's ears. It filled his head, that incessant buzzing echoing, resounding, reverberating like there was no tomorrow, till he could feel the beginnings of a migraine approaching.

'Hey.' He said. His mouth felt a bit dry.

Sweden's head snapped up to look at him, but…

…but he still did not remove his hands from around Denmark.

'It's raining, in case you did not notice. You  _will_  get sick.'

Even to him his voice sounded cold. Colder than it usually was. More detached than it usually was.

The Dane squirmed. Sweden's eyes widened, as if awoken from a trance, quickly retracted his arms and took a step backwards.

Turning around, Denmark gave Norway one of his pure, beautiful,  _heart stopping_  smiles. 'Aw, Nor, you were worried about us? That's so thoughtful of you.' He laughed, walked over to Norway and ruffled his wet hair.

'C'mon, Sve. Let's get inside.' He said cheerfully, almost as if he hadn't been crying a few seconds back.

Watching Sweden and Denmark make their way towards the latter's house, their knuckles brushing against each other, Norway could no longer deny the unanticipated hate and jealousy that was slowly and methodically stabbing through his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ff.net on 3rd April 2012.  
> Being a Denmark RPer, my characters' characters are based on my observations of fellow RPers. Not a legitimate excuse, yes, but this is all I can come up with at the moment. ^^' So yeah. There's probably lots of OOCness.  
> Part 2 of a series of (around) 4 fics.


End file.
